Wednesday, January 12, 2005

Randy Moss, Strange Love, The Surreal Life and Caesar’s 24/7

I haven’t been in a ranty mood lately and for that, I apologize. I’ve been sick AGAIN!! I haven’t been sick three times in the past ten years but I’ve now been sick three times in the past three months. Grrrrrrrrrr. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired. Really, I am. I could seriously hurt someone over this. Anyway, there’s some stuff that’s been on my mind this week, but I haven’t really had a chance to straighten it all out in my head until today.

Randy Fucking Moss. I hate this guy. Hate him like he punched my grandmother. He is another supreme example of what is wrong with modern athletes. When the Vikings drafted him, there were questions about his character. As all of us who follow sports have learned since, there was a reason he went so low in the first round. The man is an insipid douchebag. He has said stuff in the past like, “I play when I want to play. If you don’t like it, I don’t care.” Nice way to give back to the team that has made damn sure that you are living in a mansion and aren’t flipping burgers in West Virginia (where he’s from) for the rest of your life. His display in Green Bay over the weekend was shameful. The “fake mooning” he gave the crowd was just the icing on the cake. Back to that in a minute. First of all, I knew something was different with him when he came out with his “Sideshow Bob” hairdo instead of his usual cornrows. Told me he was in a weird mood. Then, after the Vikings took the lead, you see him on the sidelines saying stuff to the crowd like, “I don’t give a shit. Look at the fucking scoreboard. Ya’ll are losin.” Dick. The first TD pass he caught should have been called back for offensive pass interference. He totally pushed Al Harris down in order to catch the ball. Nice skills there Randy. Then when he did the “simulation mooning” to the crowd and appeared to wipe his ass on the goalpost, I was disgusted even further. He is a classless, tasteless individual. Why you would, as a business person, give this man $84 million is beyond me. You do not make a man of his character and personality comfortable, if you want results from him at all times. Anyhow, Randy Moss, you are an asshole and if I ever meet you, I will fight you. For now, though, I am rooting for Lito Sheppard and Sheldon Brown of the Eagles to aim directly for your ACL when they tackle you. After all, your $84 million contract isn’t guaranteed money.

Strange Love. Ok, I have to admit that I have been looking forward to seeing this show on VH1 ever since I saw that Flava Flav and Brigitte Nielsen were involved. First of all, could you come up with two people that look worse together than these two? For those who don’t know, Flava Flav is a rapper from Public Enemy. I fucking love Public Enemy. They put out three of the most influential rap albums of the 80's and early 90's. Yo Bum Rush The Show, It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back and Fear Of A Black Planet were by far the best rap albums ever to come out, with the exception of The Black Album by Jay-Z. I guess Flava and Brigitte met on the Surreal Life and hit it off. The opening episode is Flava flying to Italy to be with Brigitte. Only problem is that Brigitte is engaged to some guy that looks like a soccer reject. Flava talks Brigitte into ditching the fiancee and taking her to some Italian villa to be alone. The rest of the show was spent listening to Flava call Brigitte “Geet-A” and Brigitte call Flava Flav “Foofy Foofy.” High comedy right there. Let me say that I cannot believe that this woman was once married to Sly Stallone. She has not aged well at all. She’s all wrinkly and stuff. She was a semi-hottie back in the 80's, but damn, she’s hideous now. She was always a bit mannish, but now she’s freakishly mannish. Well if you don’t take into account the fact that she has HUGE hooters. The show was strange, to say the least and from the looks of it, it will only get stranger as the season wears on. I will be watching.

The Surreal Life. True story - I used to think that Queen’s lyrics said “Is this surreal life, is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide. So escape from reality.” See, the reality part justified the surreal life part in my mind. Yes, I know I’m an idiot. Asshole. Anyway, another VH1 reality train wreck. But the weird part of it is that it’s a beautiful train wreck. It works splendidly. You put some washed up faux-celebs with personality disorders in a house together all at once and the jokes write themselves. In The Surreal Life 4 (there were 3 before this? I must rent them on Netflix) houses Chyna (of WWE fame - and she’s a MAN baby!!), Christopher Knight (Peter Brady), Da Brat (who?), Adrianne Curry (America’s Next Top Model winner, and she’s smokin’ hot, if not extremely stupid - my favorite combination), Markus Schenkenberg (male model and definite mimbo), Jane Weidlin (she of the Go Go’s fame from the 80's - and quite possibly possessing the most annoying speaking voice in the history of television), and Verne Troyer (Mini Me). What could possibly go wrong? This show really deserves its own entry because it’s so great. In the first episode, Chyna arrives at the house first and chooses a room. There are two rooms that sleep three and one room that is solo. As you can guess, she chooses the solo room. Only problem is that it’s meant for Mini Me. Everything is freakin tiny. Closet, mini bar, bed, everything. You can imagine what happens when Mini Me finds this out later. Da Brat comes in and sees that she’s in a house full of hasbeens and calls her manager telling her that she’s leaving. Adrianne and Markus walk around like they’re in a daze. It must be hard carrying all that beauty around all the time. The funniest part of the show (and maybe in the history of reality television) was Mini Me getting fucked up. Totally trashed. He is in bed sleeping it off when the Adrianne and Jane decide to go skinny dipping. Well, Peter Brady goes and wakes him up. Mini Me comes out and makes a pass at Peter Brady, then passes out on him. They get him to back to bed and he starts making these orgasmic moaning sounds. Totally satisfying himself with people IN the room. Everyone is laughing their asses off. Then, not five minutes later, Mini Me (who gets around on a scooter type apparatus) is on his scooter, driving down the hallway bare-assed naked. He stops at the end of the hallway and pisses on the wall. Oh.My.GOD!! I have never laughed so hard in all my life. You can’t script shit like that. Definitely another show that I’ll watch religiously. I really need a TiVo.

Caesar’s 24/7. I fucking love reality TV. Love it. I also love Vegas and would move there in a heartbeat if I could. This is an interesting show that focuses on all aspects of running a huge gaming casino. Another inaugural episode. This one featured a retired 31 year old millionaire woman losing $60,000 at the roulette wheel. The bizarre thing was that she was there for 12 hours. She was down $60,000 after 2 hours and battled back to even after 11 hours and then lost it all in the next two. The house always wins. Walk the fuck away already. They focused on a man with terminal cancer. He comes to Vegas every so often and plays the slots. This time he decided to play the $500 slot machine and in his fourth pull ($2,000 into it), he hits a jackpot of $1,000,000. I would have fallen over in a dead fucking faint. The floor manager congratulates him and puts him and his wife up in the nicest suite in the hotel, a 9,500 square foot mansion of a place with plasma tvs in every room (including the bathrooms) and their own private swimming pool. Later in the show this guy hits a poker machine for another $75,000 and wins another $125,000 playing cards. Not a bad day, all in all. Good for him. There was a blackjack dealer they featured talking about how, if she gets a guy at the table that wins a bunch of money, she’ll take home $1,000 in tips per night. She averages $750. That’s insane. And it makes me want to deal cards 12 hours a day. Dammit, I’m hooked. There goes one New Year’s Resolution. Oh well, such is life...or reality.

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